


The Open Window

by AllTheBellsInVenice



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 100 follower ficlets, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breakup, F/M, Forgiveness, Prompt Fill, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheBellsInVenice/pseuds/AllTheBellsInVenice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock made a mess of things when he left a window open in Molly's flat, but she accepts his sincere apology and welcomes him back to her heart. A prompt fill for my dear liathwen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Open Window

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liathwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liathwen/gifts).



_liathwen requested: Break up and make up ;)_

****

“John said I ought to try flowers,” Sherlock said when Molly opened the front door of her flat. She inhaled sharply; he was carrying what had to be at least three dozen long-stemmed red roses, exquisitely scarlet. Then she noticed his face. He was thinner, almost gaunt, and his eyes looked pinched, bruised…lost.

“Molly, may I please come in?” Sherlock asked humbly, and Molly relented. She stood aside; he walked in and stood in her sitting room, looking a bit ludicrous behind the enormous flower arrangement. After a moment, he set it carefully down on a side table. Molly faced him, crossing her arms.

“Please, Molly,” he began, shifting from foot to foot, clearly trying not to pace. “I was wrong, so wrong. And this last week…Molly, I don’t think I can live without you. Without your good graces, at least, even if I can never touch you again.” A tear slipped down his cheek. “I’ll never, never do it again. I hurt you, and I’m a worthless prat. I’ll do anything, I’ll leave London if you ask me to. But please, Molly. Tell me if there’s any hope for me. For us. I can’t bear this.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” Molly sighed. She had forgiven him already, of course, and had only been waiting for him to come to her with his apology. “I love you. You know I do.”

“But?” He looked up, his eyes swimming. He twisted a fist into his gut as if it hurt him.

“But you must never, ever leave the window of my flat open again. Toby is back, of course,” she continued. “I know you returned him, too; don’t deny it. The window was almost entirely closed when I came back that day. You really must have been really upset, to miss that.”

“I…” Sherlock gulped.

“Oh come here, you great fool,” Molly said, enfolding him. “I need you too. So much. Oh, Sherlock…I need you. Right now.” Impulsively, she shoved his coat off his shoulders and pushed her mouth against his.

When she broke the kiss, Sherlock was blinking. “You don’t hate me? And now you want…sex?”

“No, I don’t hate you. And yes. Sex, Sherlock, my darling, my love. I’ve missed you so much.”

Water turned to fire in his eyes, and not for the first time, Molly’s heart caught in her throat at the speed of his movements as he pulled her tightly against him.

Her fingers were nimble at his buttons; he tugged at her jumper and cursed as he ran afoul of the ties of her blouse. They pushed apart for just a moment to deal with their own trousers, then Sherlock’s hands were swiftly unhooking and pulling away her bra as she pushed him down on his back, tugging impatiently at his pants.

Then they were naked, and he was clearly eager; Molly threw a leg over him and sank down onto his cock with a hum of satisfaction. He wanted to hold her hands; she gripped them and braced herself, rolling her hips, letting her head tilt back and her lips part in a soft exhalation. When she looked at Sherlock again, she saw his blue eyes widen and his brow crinkle, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real, that he was actually on his back with Molly riding him, once more his own.

He surged up into a sitting position, taking her mouth hungrily as his hand guided Molly’s own down between their bodies, to where they were locked together.

“Touch yourself, Molly,” he gasped. “I need to watch you come.”

“Then tickle my arse, please, darling,” she said against his ear. He put a finger into his mouth, then reached behind her to tease her little opening.

And soon, Molly was gasping and arching back in Sherlock’s arms, his mouth on her rosy breasts, his finger squirming deliciously in her backside.

“Beautiful Molly,” he moaned. Smiling, she leaned even farther backward, trapping his arm under her back.

“Come inside me, Sherlock. Let me feel you.”

“Ah, god,” he bit out. Gritting his teeth, he took the freedom she offered him with this position, giving her long, deep strokes until finally he shuddered on top of her, his cock pulsing sweetly inside.

His head rested beside her neck, and she held his dark curls against her cheek.

“So you really do forgive me, then?” he asked quietly, his breath hot on her ear.

“I do. But Sherlock,” she said, pointing to the empty cat basket, “Toby may never speak to you again.”


End file.
